Busted
by eclecticxdetour
Summary: PRE-WINCEST Wee!Chesters Sam is 5 Dean is 9 Upon arrival at their latest place of residence, Sammy gets excited over the first functioning pool of any motel they've ever stayed at. Dean and Sam have fun in the pool despite John's wishes.


Dean sighed when he glanced over at Sammy and realized his brother's wide-eyed awe over the glimmering blue of the swimming pool in the courtyard of their motel. He turned to Sam so he could deter what he knew Sam was going to ask of their dad but he was too late.

"Daddy," sighed Sam breathlessly, pressing his face against the Impala's window in his excitement, "Can we--"

John caught Sam's eye in the rearview mirror and hardened his gaze as he cut Sam off, "No, Sammy, I'm checking us in and then I gotta head out, kiddo. You and Dean need to salt the windows and doors after I go and then _keep to the room_, alright? That means _no pool_," he said, narrowing his gaze at Dean and cocking a brow to make his point.

"Yes, sir," replied Sam and Dean in unison, Sam pouting and crossing his arms over his chest while Dean smiled sympathetically and wrapped an arm around little Sam's shoulders.

John parked in front of the motel check-in, leaving Sam and Dean in the Impala.

Sam huffed out a breath and turned his big watering eyes up at his big brother. "De…why won't daddy let us play in the pool?" he asked innocently, watching as a mother and her two sons and daughter settled in by the pool. "I wanna go play," he said to Dean, pout still in full affect as he uncrossed his arms and tugged at the hem of Dean's worn t-shirt.

Dean sighed and peeled Sam's hand away from his t-shirt and loosely held it in his own. "Dad said 'no', Sammy."

Sam slid in closer under Dean's arm around his shoulders and sighed against Dean's side. "How come daddy never let's us play?" asked Sam sadly.

Dean exhaled sharply as he watched the two brothers cannonball into the pool and splash their little sister in her pink The Little Mermaid bathing suit. He turned to Sam and squeezed his brother's hand as he answered, "Dad just wants to keep us safe, Sam. He doesn't want us to get hurt, especially if he's not around to help us, little brother."

Sam looked up at Dean then with a cheeky smile on his face. "But _you'd_ be with me and I never get hurt around you, De. So we _can_ go in the pool!" he said excitedly, clutching at Dean's hand with both of his smaller ones.

"No, Sam, you don't ge--" but Dean was interrupted when the driver's side door to the Impala opened and their dad settled in behind the wheel.

"You boys remember what I said; salt the windows and the door and _don't leave the room_," said John, catching his sons' eyes before driving them over to the room they'd be staying in. "I'm gonna get cleaned up real quick and then head out."

Dean nodded, "Yes, sir."

"Sammy?" asked John, turning off the engine after he'd parked in front of their room and turning to look at his youngest boy.

"Yes, sir," said Sam, voice small and gaze not meeting his daddy's.

John sighed and scrubbed a hand over his stubbled chin, sure that Sam wouldn't look at him even if he'd demanded it of his little boy. "Alright, boys, head on in."

Sam clung to his brother as they scrambled out of the car. Dean put up a small struggle but then he wrapped his arms around Dean's waist and Dean knew he was defeated.

Dean ruffled Sam's hair and grabbed their bags from the foot well before he walked them to their room.

John tossed Dean the key and was proud of the way that Dean managed to catch the small piece of filed metal, seeing as how he had his arm around his brother and the other arm loaded down with two duffles about the same size as Sammy.

Dean awkwardly made their way to the motel room door and stuffed the key in the lock; having to rotate it all the way around before the lock would actually click open. He stuffed the key in his pocket and half-lead, half-carried Sam into the room, chucking his little brother onto one of the queen sized beds as he carelessly dropped their clothing duffles on the floor.

Sam bounced on the overly firm mattress when he landed and he laughed, breath quickly evening as their dad made his way into the room.

John claimed a bed for himself, large weapons duffle carefully arranged on the bed even before the door was closed. "I don't want you boys touching anything here, you hear me?" He glanced at his sons and nodded when he saw Sam and Dean do the same. He gestured Dean over and settled a hand on Dean's shoulder, "This one's just a simple salt and burn, boy, so I'll be back in the morning," he said, loading two rounds of packed rock salt into his sawed-off.

After Dean's solid "Yes, sir," he met Dean's eyes again and ruffled Dean's hair as he set the shotgun in a smaller duffle, "And you make sure you and Sammy eat some food, okay? I think there's some Chef Boyardee and some macaroni or pasta in one of your duffles."

Dean nodded, "I'll take care of Sam, Dad, don't worry."

"I know, Dean," sighed John, packing the essentials into the smaller duffle, "you're a good boy, son."

He pat Dean on the head as he slung his bag over his shoulder making his way over to Sam and gently patting Sam on the head as he said, "You be good for your brother, alright?"

Sam looked up at his daddy with wide-eyes and grinned when his Daddy's mouth quirked in a small smile.

John chuckled quietly and said, "I'll see you boys in the morning," before he left for his latest hunt.

On auto-pilot Dean stepped to the door and dead-bolted and chained it locked. He waved at Sam and his brother quickly figured what he needed and grabbed the economy-sized container of Morton salt and handed it over.

"Thanks," absently replied Dean, sure to draw a thick line in front of the door and on the sills of the two windows, not forgetting the small window in the bathroom.

When they were safely holed up in the room Dean settled down on the less than plush couch and patted the seat next to him for Sammy.

Sam clambered his little self onto the couch and squirmed until he was comfortable, half on Dean's lap, one leg flung over the arm of the couch, and one arm squished against the back.

"Dunno how you can get yourself in such pretzeled positions, man," laughed Dean, laughing harder when Sam pouted up at him.

"This couch hurts my butt," whined Sam, looking up at Dean like his big brother could make it all better.

"_I'm_ gonna hurt your butt if you don't quit wriggling."

Even though it was a pain, Dean was impressed with Sam's melodrama even though his baby brother was only five years old.

Sam huffed and scrambled until he was sitting full on Dean's lap with his back against the armrest and his legs hanging just over Dean's left thigh.

"Can we watch Chip & Dale, De? _Please_?" asked Sam of Dean, fisting his little hand in Dean's t-shirt when Dean snatched up the remote.

There was a wrestling match on when the images finally faded in on the television that Dean had actually been sort of looking forward to, but one look at his little brother's pleading expression and he was flicking through the channels until he caught sight of the two chipmunks.

"Yeah, Sammy, we can watch the dumb chipmunks, you little brat," said Dean affectionately, setting the remote next to them and kicking his feet up on the beat-up coffee table.

Sam smiled and hunkered in against Dean's chest as he glued his eyes to the television screen.

Dean stroked Sam's messy hair away from his little brother's face and just relaxed. Sure to deny it to his Sammy later that he actually kind of enjoyed watching the Rescue Rangers' little adventures with him.

He startled awake when he felt more than heard Sam snoring softly in his lap. He hit the display for the television and found it was already 7:00, Chip & Dale long gone and replaced with some sitcom with a laugh track.

Dean flicked off the TV and gently roused Sam. He shook his brother's little shoulders and laughed when Sam snorted against his neck.

"Whas'it?" mumbled Sam sleepily, pawing at Dean's chest as he snuggled closer to his big brother's warmth.

"You want pasta noodles or macaroni noodles for dinner?"

"'ner?"

"Yeah, stink, it's already 7:00."

"Y'stink," was all Dean got out of Sam.

Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed and shifted Sam until he stood at the edge of the couch looking down at his little brother. He combed his fingers through Sam's tangled hair and said to himself, "Looks like we're gonna have Beefaroni."

Sam pouted in his sleep and Dean couldn't help the small smile that broke across his face.

He went to his duffle bag and rummaged around but when he found no tins or boxes he switched his attention to Sam's bag and smirked when he found a slightly dented can of Beefaroni.

Sam blinked and frowned when Dean wasn't in his direct line of sight. "De?" he asked, voice quavering a little when he looked around and didn't find Dean. "Dean!"

Dean dropped the damned can of Beefaroni on the counter and rushed into the little living room. "Sammy! What's the matter?"

"Didn't know where y'were," sniffed Sam, sitting up and wiping at his nose with the heel of his palm.

Dean let out a relieved sigh and wiped Sam's hand on his shirt before tugging his little brother into the small kitchenette with him. "I told you I was gonna make some dinner."

Sam perked up at the idea of food and his eyes widened as he caught a glance of the pool outside their window. "You'll take me in th'pool after, right?" he asked excitedly, body wracked with hyper-energy.

Dean marveled at how just seconds ago it looked like a nuclear bomb wouldn't have even woken Sam, but the thought of going for a little swim had Sam practically bouncing in his chair.

He hated disappointing Sam but their father had made a point of telling him straight out that there would be no going in the pool.

"Dad said 'no', Sammy," he sighed, rummaging in the cabinets for a beaten pot he could put the pasta in. He held up a hand when Sam started "Bu--"

"I know your argument already, and just because I'll be there to keep ya' safe doesn't mean I'm gonna disobey Dad."

Sam crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, eyes fixed in a glare when his brother turned toward him. "I hate you," muttered Sam.

Dean's heart fluttered painfully in his chest at Sam's petulant admission but he knew his brother would get over it eventually.

"You know I would if Dad said it was okay, kiddo," he said, back turned to Sam's crestfallen expression as he plopped the Beefaroni into the heated pot.

"Yeah, but _De_, Daddy's not _here_," argued Sam quietly, sure that Dean would cave. "He said he won't be back until tomorrow morning and I won't say anything if you take me in the pool."

Dean sighed and rummaged around in the drawer for a spoon to stir the pasta noodles with. "We don't even have any swimming trunks, Sam."

"Oh," said Sam, frowning when Dean turned toward him, "you're right."

"Yeah, and if I _did _take you in the pool, I ain't letting you jump in there all naked."

Sammy laughed, "You said naked."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Well, yeah, but seriously. It's not happening, Sammy."

"Fine," huffed Sam, staring at his bowl of Beefaroni when Dean set it in front of him, not looking at his brother when Dean put a glass of water next to his bowl.

Dean didn't even try talking to Sam as they ate their dinner. Sure that Sam wouldn't talk to him anyway. He refilled Sam's bowl when his little brother quietly asked for some more and then he quickly cleaned up when they'd finished, carefully putting the dishes back in the cabinet while Sam watched some more television.

It was dark, now, and Dean noticed the lifeguard at the pool leaving his post and locking up the pool, though the in-pool lights were left on. He thought it weird that they closed the pool in the evening but left the lights on when nobody would be in it.

He looked to the other end of the couch to Sam pouting as his little brother watched whatever mindless show was on TV.

The brothers sat in a tense silence as the television blared in front of them. Forty-five minutes later and Dean made up his mind.

Dean sighed and got up off the couch, "Go get some towels, Sammy."

Sam's eyes widened and a grin split his little face. "Really?"

"Yeah, Sam. But if you tell Dad I will so kick your butt, squirt."

"Promise I won't," said Sam, already in the bathroom and pulling two towels from the towel rack.

Dean went to his duffel and rummaged around for his lock-picking kit, certain that he'd have no problem getting past the lock on the pool gate.

"Okay, m'ready," said Sam excitedly, grin still pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Alright, now you gotta be real quiet, okay? We're not s'posed to be going in the pool now, you hear me?"

Sam nodded and whispered, "Okay."

"Good."

Dean unbolted and undid the chain lock before letting Sam step through the door before him. He gently closed the door before ushering Sam across the little drive and over to the pool.

Sam giggled softly with barely held excitement and Dean squeezed his wrist. His eyes widened as he looked to Dean fiddling with the padlock on the gate.

"Quiet down, yeah?"

Sam nodded again and quieted his giggles, hand clutching at the leg of Dean's jeans and tugging excitedly when Dean yanked on the padlock and got it open.

"Alright, Sammy, go ahead," whispered Dean, gently pushing at the gate and hoping to hell that it didn't make any noise.

Sam went into the pool area and set the towels one of the lounge chairs as he waited for Dean.

"Okay, you gotta get out of your shirts and pants but _keep your underpants on_," said Dean, voice high when Sam quickly stripped out of his t-shirt and jeans and already started working on his underwear.

"Now what?" asked Sam, setting his balled up clothes on the lounger next to the towels.

"Keep to the shallow end and don't swim too far away from me," answered Dean, shucking down to his briefs, too. "And don't splash too loud, don't want us gettin' into trouble, okay?"

Sam nodded and walked to the shallow end of the pool, sitting down so that only his legs were in the water. "S'cold," he whispered, glancing over his shoulder at Dean and waving at him to get his butt over.

"Yeah?" asked Dean, sitting next to Sam and dipping his pale legs into the water. "S'not bad," he said, cupping his hand in the water and lightly splashing Sammy.

"Hey!" said Sam in a hissed whisper, dipping his hand in the water and splashing at his brother.

"You gonna swim or what?"

Sam nodded eagerly and held his breath as he slid smoothly into the pool, mop of hair floating on the surface as he sank to the shallow bottom.

Dean got into the water, too, tall enough that the water only came up to his armpits. He laughed quietly when Sam popped up through the surface, face dripping wet and floppy hair matted to his forehead. He pushed Sam's hair away from his face and said, eyebrow raised, "You okay?"

Sam nodded happily and swam a few feet away from Dean and then ducked under the water, breaking the surface and letting out a giggle when Dean met him beneath the water.

"De!" he squealed, laughing harder when Dean grabbed him around the waist and tickled his ribs.

Dean laughed, too, and pulled Sam under the water, grinning as Sam struggled and flailed against him. He knew how much Sam could take and when to let Sam break the surface again.

"You suck," coughed Sam, clinging to Dean's neck as he caught his breath again.

Dean kept an arm around Sam's waist while Sam hacked and coughed for air. "Alright, little brother?"

"Yeah," huffed Sam, kicking away from Dean and ducking under the water again only to come up behind his brother and dunk him under.

Dean snorted when Sam tried to push him beneath the water, slight weight of Sam's body not nearly enough to sink him. "Nice try, bro."

"Oh, come _on_!" sighed Sam, pushing harder at Dean and laughing when Dean purposefully bent his knees so they both sank underneath the water.

Both Winchester came up, sputtering and laughing until they heard, "Hey! Who's out there?"

Dean wrapped an arm around Sam from behind and clapped a hand over his little brother's mouth as he silently dragged Sam to the steps of the pool, careful to avoid the path of the flashlight that came from the direction of the voice.

"Keep quiet, Sammy. I'mma let you go now, okay?" At Sam's small nod Dean lifted his hand from Sam's mouth and they scrambled up the steps, quickly grabbing their clothes and wrapping the towels around their waists. He grabbed at Sam's hand and then swiftly and silently made their way to the room, not before Dean quickly and efficiently put the padlock back on the pool gate.

They managed to make it into the haven of the motel room before the voice and its owner made it to the gate of the pool.

The boys broke out into raucous laughter at the near catch and Sam collapsed on their bed in his mirth.

Dean rolled his eyes but smiled as he walked to Sam and took the towel from his little brother. He scrubbed at Sam's head to try to dry Sam's messy mop before he patted down Sam and then made his way to the bathroom. He dried himself off before he hung the used towels over the shower rod to dry.

When he got back to the bedroom area he found Sam fast asleep, legs and arms all akimbo, wet little tighty whities clinging to Sam's small hips like a second skin.

He knew that Sam would complain about itchy chlorinated underwear if he slept in his wet underpants so he pulled back the covers and then undressed Sam before tucking his baby brother beneath the comforter.

He went to the bathroom again and hung Sam's underwear over the curtain rod with the towels. He knew that putting on a fresh pair of underpants was just going to create more laundry to have to wash when they went to the Laundromat so he just huffed out a breath and stripped down to his birthday suit and hung his underwear over the shower rod, too.

Dean didn't have a problem sleeping next to his baby brother naked. It's not like he'd never seen Sam naked and it wasn't the first time they'd been naked together anyway. It was always more efficient if they bathed together especially if they needed to leave somewhere quickly.

He made a slow scan of the room, checking that the salt lines were still intact and that the .45 Dad had given him was fully loaded and in reach in case he needed it. Dean climbed beneath the covers, too, and immediately Sam sought out his warmth, so used to sleeping so close to him.

He let Sam curl up against him and Sammy murmured sleepily, "'anks, De. Love you," and when he moved to place a sloppy kiss on his cheek he missed and kissed at Dean's neck instead.

Dean swallowed down a gasp, the feel of Sam's mouth pressed against the thin skin over his pulse point making his stomach flip strangely.

Sam grinned at the silly sound his big brother made when he kissed him goodnight. He didn't know why but it made his tummy feel funny but he didn't think more on it when his Dean was pulling him closer and petting his head.

Dean ignored his strange reaction to Sammy's kiss and hugged his brother's curled form against his chest and smoothed out Sam's hair before his kissed that messy mop and relayed his own love for his little brother and wished for sweet dreams.

* * *

John quietly made his way into the room, not wanting to wake his boys. When he shut and locked the door behind him he grinned at the sight of his sons, Sam all splayed across Dean like an octopus and Dean not having a care in the world about it.

He crossed to the bed and gently peeled Sam away from Dean so that Dean wouldn't suffocate from all that shaggy brown hair.

He frowned, then, catching a whiff of… was that? _Chlorine_?

John narrowed his eyes and stomped over to the bathroom and yup, there were two drying pairs of tighty whities hanging from the shower rod. He tugged them off of the rod and stormed back into the bed area and growled, "Dean!"

Dean shot up off the bed, .45 loosely hanging in his hand as he protectively grabbed at Sammy only to be caught in the face with two pool scented pairs of underpants.

He set the .45 back on the side table and caught Sam's eye and when Sam gave him a small sleepy smile he looked back at their Dad and said, "Busted."


End file.
